


Wildest Dreams

by fireflyslove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Avengers: Endgame fix it, Bucky/steve/steve, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Selfcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 15:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove
Summary: Steve finds himself (literally) on the battlefield and then they find Bucky.More detailed summary in top notesEndgame spoilers, obvs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2023!Steve/2012!Steve/Bucky but it's also the 2023 Stucky reunion.
> 
> The Steve/Steve/Bucky will be appearing in the third chapter. 
> 
> Title, as per the usual, is from Taylor Swift song

“Bucky… is… alive…” 

Now, being choked half to death by your past self was a new experience even for Steve, but considering that this version of him had lost Bucky less than a month before, it got the reaction he expected. His past self let him go just long enough for him to grab the mind stone and poke him in the chest with it. He rolled to his feet and considered the prone form of his younger self. Eleven years has been kind to him, at least physically. He looks almost the same.

America’s ass indeed. 

The end of the world came, and with it, everything they had been working so hard to restore. When the dust (literally) settled this time, he found himself holding half a shield and Mjolnir. There was static on the comms, and his ears were ringing. Voices started to cut through, a cacophony of sound that even he was having trouble cutting through. 

He turned to face the mass of people milling around the field, scanning it for familiar faces, but one in particular. He almost missed him in the soot and blood, but there, leaning against a great bulk of rock for support, was Bucky. His exhaustion suddenly forgotten, he dropped Mjolnir and literally leapt over the heads of his allies, bouncing off them in some cases until he dropped down in front of Bucky. 

Bucky looked up from where he was trying to fix something in the plates of his arm, hand twitching for his gun. His eyes went wide, but Steve didn’t even give him a chance to say anything, just grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in, clutching at the fabric of his jacket as though he could disintegrate again at any second. Steve had  _ felt _ Bucky slip through his fingers five years ago, and he still couldn’t quite believe that  _ this _ Bucky was real. 

He could feel Bucky’s fingers biting into the skin of his back even through body armor, as if trying to prove the same thing. 

“It’s been so long,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s hair. He had lost Bucky the first time for less than two years, as far as his personal sense of time was concerned, but the last five years had been an eternity. 

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky said back. 

“It wasn’t you,” Steve said.

“I keep leaving you,” Bucky said.

“Never again.” 

“Never again.”

Suddenly, Steve’s earpiece crackled with a voice that cut through the chatter, “Does anyone have eyes on me?” That was  _ his  _ voice, but he was not the one speaking.

“Steve?” Bucky said.

“That wasn’t me,” Steve replied.

The comm line continued to be filled with the sounds of reunions, but he heard his own voice again asking for Stark. 

“Everyone, quiet,” he barked, and everyone went silent. “Who is this?” 

“Steve Rogers,” the voice replied.

“Cap, he’s over here,” Sam said. “I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, and advanced toward Sam’s position. 

Of all the things Steve had expected to see, his own younger self, soot covered, but still obviously the same self he had left unconscious in 2012, was it.

“Oh shit,” Steve said.

“What the fuck is happening?” younger Steve said.

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Steve said. “But the short answer is that you time traveled forward to 2023.”

“This is just another one of Loki’s tricks,” younger Steve said, shaking his head. “None of this is real.”

“It’s real,” Steve said. “But I think we can fix it. But I assure you, this is  _ very _ real.”

Bucky, who had followed Steve up the narrow passage through the debris that younger Steve and Sam were in, stepped around Steve to grasp younger Steve by the shoulder. 

“Hey punk,” he said, shaking the shoulder. “This is no trick. Trust me, you couldn’t  _ imagine  _ something this weird.”

Younger Steve’s eyes shot open, suddenly looking far younger than his twenty-six years. “ _ Bucky? _ ” he said. 

Steve had a sudden flashback of himself saying Bucky’s name in the same tone of voice on a DC street in 2014, and half-expected Bucky to reply “Who the hell is Bucky?”. Evidently by the crinkle around Bucky’s eyes, he was resisting the urge. 

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky said. 

“How?” Younger Steve--Stevie-- asked. 

“Like I said,” Steve said, “it’s a long story.”

“You’re… me?” Stevie asked.

“Eleven years older, but yeah,” Steve said.

“And Bucky?” Stevie asked. Bucky still hadn’t taken his hand off Stevie’s shoulder. 

“Hydra,” Bucky said. “It’s more involved than that, but that’s a start.”

Stevie visibly flinched at the sound of the name. “I still don’t quite believe this is all real.”

Bucky held up his left hand, the one that wasn’t touching Stevie, and wiggled it for him to see. “Neither you nor Loki could dream this up.”

Stevie reached out a hand to hesitantly touch Bucky’s metal hand, and then collapsed forward into his chest. Bucky caught and held him, looking back over his shoulder at Steve with a look that said “What the hell?”

Sam coughed quietly, and to be honest, Steve had forgotten he was even present. “What the hell?” he said softly.

“It’s only been, at most, four weeks since he watched Bucky fall off a train in the Austrian Alps in 1945,” Steve murmured. “I’d had slightly more time to adjust when I found out, but he’s only been awake for a few days.”

“Oh shit,” Sam said. “Do you want some… I dunno, privacy?”

Steve made a face, “Like we can get any of that.” He could hear people calling him on the comms, wanting and needing answers and direction. As much as he would have liked to deal with the situation in front of him, he was the de facto general of this battlefield and he had things to sort out. 

“Buck,” he said. “Do you have this under control for now? I have some things I have to go sort out, as much as I don’t want to.”

Bucky looked pained. Even though the last five years have only been an instant for him, it’s still been years and decades and the better part of a  _ century _ since they could be near each other without the constant threat of Something coming for them. 

And Steve wanted nothing more than to shut out the world around them, the noise and the smoke and the dust and the pain and cocoon themselves off. But he couldn’t, not yet. Things, timelines and lives and years, still balanced on a knife’s edge, and he couldn’t rest until those had been settled.  

“You come back to me, Steven Rogers,” Bucky said. 

Steve gave him a sad smile, and walked back out to the wider world. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 2023 Stucky reunion with one Steve and one Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin' hiss

Hours and hours later, Steve was dead on his feet. He had finally run out of things to do, and without direction, he found himself staring blankly at what used to be a wall. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped. He turned his head slightly to see Sam. 

“You look like shit,” Sam said without preamble.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve said. 

“It’s been a long five years,” Sam countered.

“Touche,” Steve said. “I just… don’t know what to do now.”

“One day at a time,” Sam said. “And for right now, you need to sleep. They’ve set up cots over there,” he pointed, “go find one and take a nap.”

It was sound advice, and Steve stumbled off toward the makeshift dormitory, tripping over his own feet on the way. He’d been exhausted before, but never to quite this degree. He didn’t hear the voice calling his name until he actually ran into someone, and looked up blearily into Bucky’s face. 

“You’re an idiot,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, but any reason in particular?” 

“You don’t delegate  _ anything _ do you? No, don’t answer that, just come here. I’ll get you cleaned up and somewhere private to sleep.” He took Steve’s hand and led him to a building with actual walls. Steve wasn’t exactly certain where they were, but this place was warm and dark and quiet, and that’s all he cared about. 

When Bucky let go of Steve’s hand, Steve immediately stopped in his tracks. Bucky went a little further into the room and flicked a switch, giving the room a soft illumination. “I got younger you sleeping, and I’ll be surprised if anyone sees hide or tail of him in the next twenty hours or so. And you’re even worse off. Never could do things by halves, could you?”

Steve had enough energy for a rueful snort. “No.” 

Bucky came back to stand in front of him. “I didn’t think so. Now, can you take that suit off, or do you need help?”

Steve started to tug on his sleeves before he found that he was actually too tired to even do that. He didn’t even get the words out before Bucky huffed a laugh and slid his hands over Steve’s. 

“Let me,” he said. 

He started with Steve’s helmet, something Steve had forgotten he was even wearing. Bucky ran his hands through Steve’s hair, releasing tension that seemed stored in the follicles. His knees started to give out then, and Bucky caught him, walking him back until he was sitting in a chair. His vision started to go grey around the edges, something he hadn’t experienced since before the serum. 

“Hey,” Bucky said softly. “None of that now. I need you to stay awake until we can at least get you clean enough that you’re recognizably human again. Or… whatever. There’s a lot of weird things running around lately.” He knelt in front of Steve, their foreheads pressed together as he started on the clasps of Steve’s chest armor. It released in more pieces than it had gone on, obviously damaged by the day’s battle, but Bucky just set the pieces aside. 

It was more difficult to get Steve’s boots off, his feet were swollen from being on them for so long, and he didn’t have the strength to provide the leverage Bucky needed to pull on them. Eventually, they did relent, and Steve was left in his pants and still-sodden undershirt. The room took on a sudden chill, and he began to shiver. 

“Shit,” Bucky swore softly, and slid his own jacket off, tossing it around Steve’s shoulders. “We’ll get you a blanket in a minute. I’ll be right back.” He stood, and Steve grasped at his fingers as he trailed them away. Bucky gave a reassuring squeeze and crossed the room. He was back only seconds later with a bowl of water and a cloth. He wiped the majority of the soot and dirt off Steve’s face and hands, then set them aside. 

“Up,” he said, and tugged on Steve’s hands. Steve went willingly, and Bucky took the jacket off his shoulders, then tugged at the material of his undershirt. Steve found the energy to raise his hands over his head, the garment quickly disappearing. “And now the pants.” Bucky managed to get those, and the skin-tight underarmor leggings off until Steve was naked, shivering. “Now, into bed,” Bucky said, pointing to the bed just behind Steve. 

Steve went, and though he thought to put up some protest, as soon as he was horizontal he was unconscious.

* * *

 

Steve woke all at once, a sense of doom closing in around him. Instead of his familiar sunny apartment on the outskirts of New York, he found himself in a dark room… with someone’s arms wrapped around him. In fact, they were curved around him and his head was pillowed on their chest. His sudden awakening had also woken them up, and he froze, trying to parse the last thing he could remember… which… was…

Bucky. 

He scrambled up into a sitting position, and even in the dim light that filtered into the room, he could make out Bucky’s face. It was still sleep-relaxed, but his eyes were open, and he gave Steve a small smile. 

“Good morning,” he said. 

“It’s real?” Steve breathed.

“It’s real,” Bucky confirmed. He took one of Steve’s hands and pressed it to his chest, his heartbeat slow and strong under Steve’s palm.

“Holy shit,” Steve said. And then, the next logical thing, because somehow he had managed to forget to kiss Bucky yesterday, he rectified that immediately.

Bucky, evidently fully awake now, flipped their positions so he was hovering over Steve (nothing Steve had ever had a problem with). Their lips slid against each other, tongues remapping the other’s mouth. Steve’s body still ached with the strain of the previous day, but he ignored it in favor of digging his fingers into Bucky’s hair and down his back. Sometime after Steve had fallen asleep, Bucky had evidently shucked his own clothes, because Steve slid his hands down and found no fabric resistance as he slid his hands over Bucky’s ass and squeezed. 

“Oh, so you want to play it that way, do you?” Bucky murmured in Steve’s ear before he began to nibble on the lobe.

Steve sucked on a gasp because  _ god yes _ he wanted to play it that way. Bucky apparently agreed, because he turned his attention to biting a series of faint bruises from Steve’s ear down his neck and across his chest. Steve shivered as the feeling flitted over his nerves, and suddenly found himself sobbing. 

“Steve?” Bucky was suddenly back at his face, a concerned thumb rubbing over his cheekbone.

“Sorry,” Steve said, scrubbing at the tears. “‘S just been so long.” 

“Oh, darling,” Bucky said. “Don’t apologize. It  _ has  _ been a long time.” 

Steve knew he meant more than just the last five years, but all the time between Brooklyn and now. But still, even with the intervening century, they were still here, together. And suddenly, more than anything, “Buck,” he said on a gasping breath, “I need you in me, now.”

Bucky let out a breath like he had been punched, but reached over Steve’s head to grasp around the bedside table. He returned with something in a tube, “Wound care salve,” he said. He shifted his weight to his knees, straddling Steve’s legs, and squeezed some of the salve out onto his flesh fingers. They usually went slower than this, but Steve’s demand had spurred him onto the same feverish pace. 

He rearranged them so that he was between Steve’s spread thighs. His hand, his  _ left  _ hand, shook as he ran it down Steve’s inner thigh from his knee to his hip. He hadn’t had a chance to really use the limb before Thanos, and it shocked him with the amount of receptive touch that fed back into his nervous system, something he’d have to explore later. For now, he used the hand to soothe Steve, a nervous habit left over from when this activity was far more likely to break Steve’s sickly frame. His gaze fixed unblinkingly on Steve’s face, he slowly slid a finger into Steve’s hole. A flicker of pain flashed over Steve’s face, and he paused his motion for a moment. 

This got him kicked in the back with a half-hearted thump, “C’mon, Buck, I’m not gonna break,” Steve said. 

And Bucky had to admit that Steve had a point, and he was loath to go slow. 

Steve very quickly found himself with three fingers in his ass, and his breath had become a thing of broken, erratic gasps. He still wasn’t quite done crying, but at this point, that was just a cathartic release. Bucky removed his fingers, and Steve keened a whine.

“Just a sec,” Bucky said, equally breathlessly, and Steve lifted his head to see Bucky haphazardly spreading a bit more salve on his hand, and then over his cock. He hitched Steve’s legs up so Steve’s knees were slung over Bucky’s shoulders, and then braced one of his hands over Steve’s shoulder. 

The stretch as he entered Steve was a burn, but it was a soothing balm that spread through Steve’s skin until he felt incandescent. Bucky brought his face to Steve’s and captured his mouth in a rhythm that matched his hips. The pace he set was fast, desperation made motion, and Steve didn’t even try to keep up, just clung to Bucky. Soon, Bucky allowed Steve’s legs to drop and wrap around his hips, so Steve’s hands could come up and cling at his shoulders. 

Bucky pinned their chests together, trapping Steve’s cock between them. The new friction had the desired effect, and almost instantly Steve’s breath changed, the telltale sign he was about to come. And a good thing, too, because Bucky wasn’t likely to last much longer. Bucky slid a hand between them and wrapped it around Steve’s cock, giving it a few good strokes. 

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, and then shot open as his back arched. White hot pleasure sparked up his spine, and all his muscles tightened. The sudden clench tipped Bucky over the edge, and he sank his teeth into the meat of Steve’s shoulder, hard enough to leave marks. 

Sated, they collapsed in a boneless heap. 

“Love you,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Love you too, punk,” Bucky said. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found anywhere a self cests @fireflyslove (At the time of posting, my tumblr is @capsbum, but it might've gone back to fireflyslove in the future)


End file.
